Petals
by 13th Dead End
Summary: Time flies. DiegoMia, just a drabble-ish summary of their story.


"I may have found just the thing

"I may have found just the thing! A nice, simple theft case. The fact that they arrested the defendant is just ludicrous – the defense will be a piece of cake. What do you think, kitten?" Diego Armando's face broke into a wide smile as he slid the manila envelope across the desk to Mia. Ever since her first case, where the unfortunate defendant had dropped dead on the stand, the poor girl hadn't taken a single case. She seemed too scared to ever set one toe in even close to the courtroom again, instead working as a secretary and assistant to Diego. Diego was persistent – he wouldn't let Mia quit law, and insisted her job as his 'assistant' was only until she recovered from the shock.

"No… no. I don't think so… sorry, Diego." She said, brushing brown bangs out of her eyes and looking away. Without even studying the folder's contents, she pushed them back across her desk at the defence attorney. The man groaned softly in exasperation.

"Kitten… you can't let that affect you so much. I mean, my first time in court, Mr. Grossberg –"

"Yes! I know! You don't have to tell me again!" Mia Fey said quickly, waving a manicured hand at her boyfriend and turning to her computer, nails klacking loudly against the keys as she typed, trying to ignore him.

"I got over myself, didn't I? And now you see how I am today."

"Yes. I see." She raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him, a second or two's pause in the clicking of keys.

"Why so bitter these days, kitten?" He purred lowly, swishing the dark contents of his mug as he leaned down to rest his elbows on the edge of the desk.

"It's just… argh! That little bitch!" She stopped typing altogether, slamming her fingers down on the keys so an unintelligible string of gibberish appeared on the screen, and continued to expand as she didn't stop applying pressure to the keyboard.

"Hawthorne, I gather?"

"Yes!" By the way she was glaring straight into his eyes, he could guess what she was thinking, and flinched.

"You're mad because I've been meeting with her for the last week."

"Yes! I mean no! I'm not mad! I'm… oh, forget it." With a swish of brown hair, she turned back to the screen, kneading down the backspace to erase the pointless spiel she had just written.

"Kitten, you can't think I'm cheating on you with _her?_" he said disbelievingly, chuckling and smirking in the way that he always did, that damnably cute way that he always did, the way that made Mia want to shake him because looking that attractive must be illegal, somewhere.

"Of… course not." She breathed. And of course, she wouldn't suspect such a silly thing. Diego had been on her side trying to put her behind bars on her last case a while ago. It would be… stupid of him to do that.

"Well then?" Of course… she was a little bit jealous, starving for attention.

"No it's just… ugh." She minimized the document, turning away from the computer and back to Diego in her swivel chair. Mia crossed her legs primly, folding her hands upon the desk and giving him a serious 'lawyer' face she used with clients. "I'm worried… she's a killer. We both know that. I'm still looking for something that we could use to lock her up… there's just no evidence…! When you're around her too much… I'm worried…" She looked down at her hands. "That she might try something. Because… I tried to expose her, and she wants revenge for that, I know it, and she'll try to get revenge through you because I love you because… because…" her rant dwindled as Diego set down his coffee and placed a calming kiss upon her forehead, leaving colour rising to her cheeks.

"I'm careful about myself, kitten. She's not going to hurt me. … I'm keeping an eye on her on a daily basis, that is all. … I haven't told her much but bare little details about is. I'm trying to make sure she doesn't kill again. It's such a waste of young life."

"But…!"

"I'm carefull." Diego repeated, smiling and pinching her cheek affectionately. "I haven't given her a reason to hate me yet, I'm posing as a friend. Maybe if we become good friends, her tongue will slip and we'll find what we need to get her behind bars, mmm?"

--

_8:45 AM._

Mia blinked blearily at the digital clock at the bedside, displaying the time in stark bright green on black before it registered. "Oh no! I'm going to be late! Mr. Grossberg—" she muttered to herself furiously, kicking the warm covers back and jumping out of bed. As she trotted over to the closet for a change of clothes, she happened to notice that the bed was already empty on Diego's side, complete with tousled pajamas thrown haphazardly at the pillow. He must not be working today, she thought, puzzled, or else he would have woken my up when he was leaving. Hopping on one foot pulling on a sock, she made her way into the adjoined living room and kitchen and spotted Diego lying lazily, fully dressed, in an armchair with his coffee.

"Ah! It's almost nine! What are you doing sitting around?" she screeched, reaching into the refrigerator for something she could eat while walking and coming out with only an apple. "Dammit, I also need to go shopping."

"Eh?" Diego looked up from a file he was reading, reaction ten seconds slow."Oh, no. I finished the case I was working on yesterday so until a new client asks for me I have a day off."

"Then why are you up so early."

"… I had an idea while I was asleep, kitten. I had to take a look at these." He waggled the papers at her. "Records from your last case."

"O-oh. What was the idea?"

His gaze hardened, and he got up, placing the empty coffee cup on the counter. "I'm sorry, I'll tell you after I talk to her. I need to talk to her now."

"Her? Dahlia Hawthorne? But…!" She protested vaguely, shoe and apple in hand. "It's dangerous… no, don't go!" He was halfway to the hall, also pulling on his shoes. Fully dressed, he smiled _that_ smile again.

"Didn't I tell you not to worry, kitten?" he said, voice a low seductive tone again as he swept over to her, a hand curling around her waist and bending her over backwards like a ballet dancer would with a partner, the classic pose. "I'll be fine… and when you get home today, I might have just what we need to finish this trouble once and for all." Mia's hand snaked along his shoulder gently to press against the tan skin of his neck, and to his surprise, _she_ pulled him into a forceful kiss. Funny, he always found himself being the one making the er, so called, _moves._

"If you don't come back…" she said lowly as they broke apart.

"I will." He pursed his lips, then grinned his wide Cheshire smile before departing.

--

"Why can't you just open up to me, Dahlia?" he said, frustrated, fighting the urge to slam his fist down onto the small glass-top table in the courthouse cafeteria. "Confess it! Or else I'll just drag the new witness out –" he snarled, dragging his fingers though messy black hair.

"Excuse me." The red-haired girl cooed sweetly, placing her head in a one hand and tilting her features at him, with those evil… puppy eyes. "Don't be so loud, Mr. Lawyer… people are looking at us! Gosh… I feel so vulnerable, so many people staring at little old me…" A tinkling laugh.

"Listen, just drop the nice act…" he sighed, voice haggard, but before he could continue, Dahlia interrupted again.

"Excuse me… but I really must go freshen up. Your yelling isn't good for my health" she trilled, getting up and positively bouncing away to the bathroom.

"Argh." Diego growled briefly, snatching up his cup of crappy espresso and swishing it around. It had been brought to him only a minute before and was already cold? Honestly, what crap the courthouse cafeteria served. He was glad he didn't come here often. Sighing bitterly, he took a sip of the much too sweet concoction.

And it only took a minute.

Diego felt his insides all seem to clench simultaneously. He struggled to breathe in, but all of a sudden, his lungs felt too small to accept oxygen. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as blackness began to creep in on the edges of his vision. _It was her._

**Thump.**

Diego didn't even feel himself fall over and hit the floor. He was 'dead' before he landed.

--

"Sis?"

"Mmmn?"

"… maybe you should go for a short walk or something."

"Mnn nn." That sounded kind of like _nuh-uh._

Maya placed her hand gently on her older sister's shoulder, not knowing really what to say. Mia was hunched over in her chair, elbows propped up on her knees and face buried in her hands. She'd been in the position for about an hour, next to Armando's hospital bed. The only indication that the man was alive was with a monitor a little behind Mia's head that was displaying a constant – weak, but constant, heart rate and vital signs. A variety of snaking wires, cables, and tubes was keeping him alive and breathing, but could not register any significant brain activity. As the doctor had told her, it was 'unfortunately hopeless, so it was up to her to consider alternate options.' She knew well what he meant, to take away all the cables and wires and to let him off life support, to let him die. Mia would feel worse than a murderer; she refused and told everyone familiar to Diego to follow her wishes.

And she visited him every single day after that, in the evenings when finished with work.

The flowers in a little vase on the bedside were always changed as soon as they started wilting, and she was always there to hold his hand and whisper a thing or two, even if he couldn't hear it or see it anymore.

But then one day, the flowers wilted completely. It had been over a week, after all. And they were never replaced. There was no one to replace them anymore.


End file.
